


Clinging to the Moment

by AnonBlueberry (hippydeath)



Series: Twit Fics [9]
Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, Morning Sex, Sleepy Sex, Soft Eskel (The Witcher), Soft Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-24
Updated: 2020-10-24
Packaged: 2021-03-09 02:14:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 653
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27176410
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hippydeath/pseuds/AnonBlueberry
Summary: Just Eskel and Geralt, shut away from the cold and the storms, wrapped up in one another.
Relationships: Eskel/Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Eskel/Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Lambert
Series: Twit Fics [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1780849
Comments: 5
Kudos: 60





	Clinging to the Moment

**Author's Note:**

> I woke up this morning and it was cold and grey and grim, and decided that the world needed more of Eskel getting fucked into a warm sleepy pile of goo.  
> So here we are!  
> This was posted on twitter, but I've cleaned it up and added to it, and Lambert is there, he's just mostly asleep in a ball under the covers. He doesn't hold with mornings.

These are the quiet kinds of mornings that Eskel adores; the ones that keep him fighting so hard to stay alive on the Path, that keep him coming back to Kaer Morhen year after year.

It's early, no light filtering through the shutters locked tight against last night's storm, and there's still a wind blowing out there, rattling the shutters. The fire is banked low, putting out enough heat that they don't need blankets wrapped around them as they move together. 

Geralt is beneath him, snug against the headboard in the ridiculous pile of pillows he calls a bed, naked and glorious, a brand of heat everywhere he touches against Eskel; his thighs against Eskel's back, his stomach against his cock, a hand on each hip, foreheads touching as they breathe together, his cock, deep in Eskel as they move slowly, minutely, almost torturously slowly towards orgasm.

This is the kind of glorious morning where Geralt, sleep stupid and fuzzy pulls Eskel into his lap, fingers sliding in easy after the night of debauchery that went before, followed by his cock as Eskel gasps against his neck.

_ Geralt fucking into him hard from behind while Lambert sucked him off, his stubble scratching against Eskel’s thighs, the two of them surrounding him, drowning him in feeling _

It's slow, and warm and perfect, lazy kisses as Eskel flexes his thighs to ride Geralt. Stuttered expletives and words of love and care as the pressure builds.

_ The three of them chasing towards orgasm, Geralt slamming into Eskel as he comes, pulling out almost as quickly to let Lambert take his place, a new pair of hands on Eskel as he spills, Lambert’s thick cock pushing him over the edge, fucking him into overstimulation and a second brutal orgasm. _

Eventually, after he's lost track of time, he has to move though, one hand braced on the headboard, the other on Geralt's bent knee as as he rises almost entirely off Geralt, holding himself there as Geralt leans up to kiss him, fucking up into him as he lowers himself down, relishing the slide and feeling of fullness. 

_ Collapsed on the bed as Lambert pulls out and finishes over his back, the feeling of being cleaned up, almost floating as the other two set the fire for the night, kiss each other, him, whatever skin they can reach, drifting off to sleep warm and loved. _

And from there the tempo changes; Geralt's hips rise to meet him each time, his cock trapped between them rubbing against Geralt's stomach, their kisses turn deeper, even more filthy as they both find their pleasure.

Geralt comes first, hands tightening on the flesh of Eskel's hips, a punched out sound hidden in a kiss as he tenses and fills Eskel.

He barely misses a beat though, hand wrapping round Eskel's cock to finish him off, pressing sloppy, bitey kisses to his neck.

"Fuck, fuck," Eskel's babbling as he comes, swearing and praising Geralt as he manages to pull them together for a messy, uncoordinated kiss while he covers both of them in come.

They stay like that for stretched out moments, pressed together, breathing in each other's space, pressing soft touches as they come down, and Eskel wishes he could just collapse, but he's too conscious of his weight against Geralt, and flops instead to the side, tightening his grip on Geralt immediately and nuzzling into him, warm and sated and happy. 

Geralt pulls the blankets back over them and lets Eskel settle with his head on Geralt's chest, a tangle of sticky warm limbs and matching heartbeats. From Geralt's other side there's some grumbling, and Geralt huffs a laugh as Lambert burrows his way deeper under the covers and into their space again, his legs adding to the tangle of limbs and warmth.

It's probably still storming outside, and there's nowhere else to be for the day if that's the case.

**Author's Note:**

> Hit me up on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/anon_blueberry) or [Tumblr](https://anonymousblueberry.tumblr.com/), I take prompts and have dumb opinions!


End file.
